Chapter 98 My bargain
Chapter 98 My bargain
Monique’s POV
I knew the moment Elara walked out of this prison that she wasn’t coming back for me.
I’m not foolish enough to believe in promises. People always offer freedom when they need something from you. The moment they get what they want, those promises quietly become “tomorrow”… then another tomorrow… until they disappear completely.
Just as I expected, she never returned.
I wasn’t disappointed.
I had already begun planning my own escape long before she ever stepped foot in this cell. I have never been the kind of woman who waits for someone else to save her. If I wanted freedom, I would have to seize it myself.
More importantly, I had unfinished business.
Seraphina.
That woman was still walking around in my body, living the life she had stolen from me while I rotted behind these bars. Every passing day only fueled the fire in my veins.
I had to get out.
No matter the cost.
My eyes drifted toward the glowing silver wards carved into every corner of the prison. Vincent thought they had rendered me powerless. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The wards suppressed my magic, reducing it to little more than weak sparks. But they couldn’t erase it completely.
Magic always finds a way.
It only needed patience.
And patience was something I had in abundance.
The day Elara came looking for answers about the relic, fate finally handed me the opportunity I had been waiting for. When I asked her to lean closer, she believed I was about to whisper another secret.
Instead, I plucked a single strand of her hair.
She never noticed.
That tiny strand became the final ingredient I needed.
The linking spell wasn’t easy. The wards fought against every incantation I whispered. More than once I thought the spell had failed, but I refused to give up. Night after night, I kept trying until it finally answered me.
The moment it did, I felt it — our lives intertwining like threads in a dark tapestry.
Now, whatever happened to me… happened to Elara.
If I bled… she bled.
If I weakened… she weakened.
And if I died… she died.
I smiled to myself in the dim light of the cell.
Vincent Ashmere would never risk that.
Not for her.
I looked down at the fresh wound across my palm, blood still dripping slowly onto the stone floor.
Good.
By now, Elara should be as weak and injured as I was.
It wouldn’t be long before Vincent came looking for answers.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the underground corridor.
I smiled before I even saw him.
Right on time.
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Vincent’s fingers remained locked around my throat for another heartbeat, his crimson eyes burning with enough fury to set the entire prison ablaze.
Then, slowly… his grip loosened.
I stumbled back against the wall, coughing as I rubbed my bruised neck. Despite the pain, the corners of my lips lifted in satisfaction.
There it was.
The hesitation I had been waiting for.
He couldn’t touch me anymore.
Not if he wanted Elara to live.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
I looked up at him, meeting his gaze without flinching.
“I want to be free. I don’t see any reason why you’ve been keeping me captive for so long.”
A humorless scoff escaped him. “Ask for something realistic.”
“I am.”
His expression hardened, but I could already see the conflict in his eyes. He knew I wasn’t bluffing.
I slowly lifted my injured hand between us. Fresh blood still seeped from the cut across my palm, rolling down my wrist and dripping onto the cold stone floor.
“See this?” I murmured.
His gaze followed the blood. I watched his jaw tighten.
“I wonder…” I continued thoughtfully, “you must have seen it on Elara’s hand by now. You know I wasn’t joking.”
I bent down and picked up the same jagged piece of stone lying near my feet.
Without breaking eye contact, I pressed its sharp edge lightly against my wrist.
“What are you doing?” His voice sharpened with alarm.
A soft laugh escaped me.
“So you do care.”
The stone remained against my skin.
“I could go deeper this time.”
His eyes darkened with barely contained rage and fear.
“Stop.”
Only one word.
Yet it carried far more fear than anger.
Satisfied, I lowered the stone and tossed it carelessly onto the floor.
“I knew you’d understand.”
His fists clenched so tightly I thought the bones might snap.
“If you hurt her again—”
“You’ll do what?” I interrupted with a smile. “Kill me?”
I took a slow step closer.
“You’ve already figured it out, Vincent.”
“If I bleed… so does she.”
“If I grow weaker… so does she.”
“And if I die…”
I tilted my head, letting the words hang heavily between us.
“You’ll be planning two funerals instead of one.”
A heavy, oppressive silence settled over the cell.
He hated this.
He hated me.
Most of all, he hated the fact that he was powerless to do anything about it.
After a long moment, he spoke again, his voice tight. “You can leave this mansion.”
I folded my arms across my chest, my smile never wavering.
“I’m not done,” I said. “I only need two days.”
His brows knitted together. “Two days of what?”
“With Elara.”
His answer came instantly. “No.”
I sighed dramatically. “I told you not to interrupt. We should leave this cell. I’m sure everyone upstairs will be very interested in hearing what I have to say.”
His expression remained cold, but the flicker of unease in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.
He had no choice.
And we both knew it.